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CHANDLER: Literally, a lost art

Mary Voelz Chandler

Published May 9, 2008 at 3 p.m.
Updated May 9, 2008 at 6:33 p.m.

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The technique used for this image was Painterly Photography. Ianni's tool of choice was a dental tool used to pack fillings of cavities.

Photo by Tina Ianni

The technique used for this image was Painterly Photography. Ianni's tool of choice was a dental tool used to pack fillings of cavities.

In her first emulsion transfer, Ianni used a technique known as emulsion lifts. "When it would tear or seem to fall apart it would turn out to be a very creative spectrum," she said.

Photo by Tina Ianni

In her first emulsion transfer, Ianni used a technique known as emulsion lifts. "When it would tear or seem to fall apart it would turn out to be a very creative spectrum," she said.

A soft watercolor feel moves a photo into a different dimension of photography, such as Ianni's Now I Remember.

Photo by Tina Ianni

A soft watercolor feel moves a photo into a different dimension of photography, such as Ianni's Now I Remember.

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When Polaroid announced in February it was going to stop making instant film products, it was a blow to artists who liked the film's immediate results and its ability to create one-of-a-kind images through transfer techniques. Among those who have staked their photographic pursuits on Polaroid products is Christina Ianni, 50, a Denver-based artist who in the 1990s began working in the processes of emulsion transfer and image transfer. Born in Stuttgart, Germany, to a military family, Ianni is basically self-taught through experimentation. At times a creative usage consultant to Polaroid, she is now attending the University of Colorado at Denver to learn more about other photographic processes, including the apparent king of the medium, digital. Ianni talked to Rocky art and architecture critic Mary Voelz Chandler about the lure of Polaroid film and how its demise will affect artists.

What led you to begin working in Polaroid technology?

Someone had shown me a transfer, but didn't know how to do them. So I began asking at camera shops and they told me to get an old Polaroid camera, put in a certain type of film, peel it apart and put it on paper. After about $100 worth of film and 10 good photos, I thought, "This isn't right." I spent another $200 on a class. I just kept experimenting . . . After going through tons of film I made the connection to call Polaroid. I had a show in (the long defunct) 2-C (space) in Pirate. It was one of my very first shows. A (Polaroid) rep saw my work and asked if I would teach the process for them. I got free film. I was learning some other techniques and different formats. They only had image transfers out at that time, not emulsion. The rep handed me a sheet of paper, with directions on how to make emulsion transfers.

Why have so many other artists been attracted to using Polaroid film and working in film transfers?

It allowed me to do color photography without a darkroom and the expense. You could do it at home. It was limiting in the size of my photographs, but it opened this whole other aspect in that it combined art and photography. It became this art therapy for the soul.

What is the impact of Polaroid's announcement that it is ending the manufacture of instant film?

What I'll miss most about Polaroid film is the magic of it, being able to see it develop in front of you. When I was 12, I had a Polaroid Swinger. It shot black-and-white. I clearly can remember that little tube of goop you had to spread over it. I was that little kid in awe. I'd pull it out of the camera, count to 60, and see my friends in it, then spread the goop and be ready to move on to the next one. It engaged me in photography. When I was 16, someone took me into the darkroom, and I again saw the magic of photography. But our whole thing was to mess it up. His (inventor Edwin Land's) thing was to make it perfect. It looks like the playground is closed; as artists we have to find a new one.

What's the fallback?

There is no fallback. We are losing this. They say you can use some of Fuji's instant film, Fuji 100. I tried it once, but it's not quite the same. There are some tricks to it, so it's a matter of me figuring it out. It's not manufactured the same way, and it's a smaller format . . . I've talked to Polaroid. We were just a small niche. When Polaroid went bankrupt years ago and was sold, it wasn't the same. They tried to get one more run of SX-70 film, but it didn't happen.

What does the apparent end of Polaroid instant film say to artists about the role of technology in their lives?

Digital is making us go digital. We love black-and-white. Are they ever going to get rid of black- and-white? Papers are disappearing. Certain chemicals aren't being made. We as artists can't manufacture Polaroid film . . . Because we're going to lose that, we may need to figure out a different way. Some of the creative techniques from Polaroid have been incorporated in Photoshop, but it's not the same . . . It's how people did test shots, and it's no longer available. And there are other places, the police, insurance companies and passport photos. The picture I took of me, I could have done it in Photoshop, but it would have taken me hours. It's like tintypes, when film came along. I love some aspects of digital, but it's not the same as a Polaroid. And it wasn't as chemically oriented as the darkroom. It was sort of contained in its little pouch. Once you broke the seal, the magic started.